


The Conference Job - Part 3

by Tieleen



Category: Leverage, Supernatural
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tieleen/pseuds/Tieleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't --" Jo says, but Parker is waving them all into silence impatiently.</p><p>"This is Jo," she says. "We're going to help her hunt something. It's not a ghost."</p><p> </p><p>This is a completed story, broken into three parts for purimgifts; part one is <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/351779">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Conference Job - Part 3

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Keenir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/gifts).



> This graphic you see before you is amazing. The random watercolor streaks are very Purim-y and not random at all. You will forget this note the moment you finish reading it, but believe every word it says without quite knowing why.

  


Parker blinks. "You think it's a cursed boiler?"

Jo blinks back. "...Not really." Hell, maybe it is a cursed boiler. It's not like her day can become any more bizarre.

She shouldn't think things like that. It might make the Winchesters show up.

She looks at Parker. Parker is looking at her expressionlessly, but it's somehow a hopeful sort-of-almost excited lack of expression. 

"Parker!" a guy is pushing his way through the crowd towards them. He's dressed in the same kind of blended in clothes as Parker is, but the expression he's wearing says a little too clearly that he'd like to be shoving people with a lot more energy. Jo shifts her stance before she even realizes it; now, this guy _is_ a fighter.

A second guy is shoving through after him, looking a lot more apologetic about it. Jo registers him and then dismisses him again -- tall and definitely built, but obviously pretty harmless. Maybe one of them is that Nate who's going to solve all her problems for her.

"What do you think you're doing," the first guy tells Parker.

"Hey, good seeing you again," the second guy tells Jo. She raises an eyebrow at him. "You find anything behind all those paintings?"

This is definitely not her day. "No." It was a long shot anyway. Just because you find an inexplicable rune in one building a guy disappeared from doesn't mean all of them are going to have some.

"You don't walk off in the middle of," the first guy gives Jo a very brief glance before focusing on Parker again, "...a conversation. I can't be in two places at once. Hardison almost got --" another quick glance. He opens his mouth again, then apparently can't think of any good code word to use.

"Made?" Jo offers helpfully.

"I did not get made," the second guy -- Hardison, apparently -- says. Then his brain clearly catches up with him, or maybe the other guy's glare does. "Who, who said anything about getting made? And you know what, people that sneak down corridors flipping paintings don't get to use that kind of judgmental tone."

"I don't --" Jo says, but Parker is waving them all into silence impatiently.

"This is Jo," she says. "We're going to help her hunt something. It's not a ghost."

"There is no such _thing_ as ghosts," the still-nameless guy says, sounding at the end of his rope. Parker waves again, this time triumphantly.

"Oh, you're an expert?" Jo says, a lot more snidely than she means to. She can feel a migraine coming on. Getting into arguments with civilians about the supernatural is pretty much the exact same thing as getting into arguments with twelve year olds on the internet.

"We," nameless guy tells Parker, "are in the middle of a _job_." No glance this time; he must have given up on discretion.

"This is more important," Parker says. She pauses. "And it's more interesting. It could be cursed boilers."

"It's not cursed boilers!" Jo says. She realizes Hardison is giving her a sympathetic look.

"Can't hurt to check," Parker says.

"Right," Jo says. "I need to go."

"Yeah, so do we," nameless guy says. "Parker --"

"We're done here anyway," Parker says stubbornly. "We won't do anything else until --"

"That's not the point --"

"Look, guys, maybe we --"

Jo backs away while they're -- are they poking each other? -- and slips out the door. Maybe she should come back tomorrow. If the pattern holds she has three days to the next disappearance anyway.

**

"You should let us help."

Jo looks up from the corner of the storage room, where she'd been in the process of stashing her equipment again -- there's a metal detector on the way out, too -- and curses under her breath. What's with today, anyway?

The woman standing at the door (dark hair, British accent, dressed just as well as the other three but somehow looking much better in it) smiles at her. Jo pushes herself to her feet and tries not to feel grungy.

"Listen, I don't know what your friend told you, but this isn't cursed boilers. It's not anything you've got any idea about."

The woman's smile widens a little. "You know, back twelve years ago or so, I was a hunter for a little while."

Jo's pretty sure her eyes are actually bugging out. "Excuse me?"

Twelve years can be a long time, probably -- hell, twelve years ago she'd been a little kid. But this woman is pretty much the anti-hunter; if someone had shown Jo a picture of this woman and told her she'd been a hunter for 'a little while', Jo would believe it no problem, because she'd be assuming the 'little while' was because she got herself killed after the first five minutes.

"Oh, not actually on the field," the woman says. Who says that? A hunter is a hunter anywhere. "You see, there was a ring I needed very urgently, and the man who had it had this idea it was connected to --" she waves an elegant hand. "some sort of portal --"

Jo gapes at her. "You conned a hunter out of some kind of power ring because you wanted some pretty jewellery?"

"Oh, I let him have it once I realized it was true." She says it completely seriously, like, yes, I graciously allowed someone to have this thing instead of doing the obvious thing and stealing it. "It was an interesting two weeks up to that point, though. I'll never understand why you people are so obsessed with flannel."

For no reason whatsoever -- it's not like flannel isn't something 90% of hunters really do wear -- Jo suddenly has a really bad feeling about this.

"You don't remember that guy's name, do you?" she says.

"His name?" The woman smiles. "Of course. Bobby Singer. Do you know him?"

Jo sighs. Of course it would be.

**

It is cursed boilers in the end. Jo can't even find it in herself to be surprised.

  



End file.
